


The Dragonborn Comes

by Aviditas04



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow/Nymeria Sand - Freeform, R plus L equals J, War Of The Five Kings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-20 02:10:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1492837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviditas04/pseuds/Aviditas04
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon Snow has returned from the Great Ranging and been arrested for treason.  When he rejects Stannis' offer, Melisandre sees an opportunity and they sail to Dragonstone with Jon as their prisoner.  Intent on waking dragons from stone, she burns Jon upon their arrival, never suspecting that she will seal her doom, and save Westeros at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Wall

**The Dragonborn Comes**

**Prologue: The Wall**

　

_The Wall, 299 AL-Jon_

 

“You’ve been charged with oathbreaking, cowardice and desertion, Snow. Do you deny that you abandoned your brothers to die on the Fist of the First Men and joined the wildling Mance Rayder, this self-styled King-beyond-the-Wall?” Janos Slynt demanded.

“ _Abandoned?!_ ” Jon Snow cried out in rage. “I joined Qhorin Halfhand to scout the Skirling Pass where we fought a small band of the Free Folk and killed most of them. I was left behind to kill the last, but I couldn’t-”

“There, you see! Blood always tells. Not only is he talking like one of them, but now he admits to refusing to kill one of the bastards!” Alliser Thorne insisted.

“We will let Jon Snow finish his testimony before casting judgement, Ser Alliser,” Maester Aemon Targaryen stated. Fortunately for Jon, Bowen Marsh and Cotter Pyke agreed.

“Thank you, Maester Aemon. Now, as I was saying, I couldn’t kill the girl, Ygritte by name. However, before I could even attempt to kill Ygritte, the Halfhand asked her straight out if he’d be taken prisoner if the Free Folk captured him. Even then he was planning on how to get one of us inside Mance Rayder’s camp. Well, they left after that and I attempted to kill her, but I couldn’t kill a woman in cold blood, I’m not a murderer, and Ygritte had never done anything to the North before. When I realized I couldn’t kill her, I decided to bring her with us, but we couldn’t catch up to the Halfhand. During that time, Ygritte kept pushing me to lie with her, but I refused. Eventually we were captured by the Free Folk, and taken to the leader of that particular band, a man called the Lord of Bones, or Rattleshirt. Rattleshirt had already captured the Halfhand. When I spoke to the Halfhand, he told me one brother inside Mance’s army was worth a thousand fighting him.”

“Don’t talk about the Halfhand like you knew him!” Thorne interrupted. “He was my brother.

“Then you know he’d do anything to protect the Watch. Now, he immediately started insulting me in order to give the impression that he hated me so that the free folk could trust me. Eventually Qhorin managed to take a sword from one of the free folk and used it to attack me, and me alone. I defended myself to the point that eventually I had to kill him.”

“So you admit to killing Qhorin Halfhand?” Pyke asked.

“Only in self-defence, and knowing that he wanted me inside Mance’s army. Once inside Mance’s army, I only told him lies about the Watch. For example, one of his commanders, one Tormund Giantsbane asked how many men were at Castle Black, and I told him a thousand were here.”

“Look at that, he can’t even stay loyal to the wildlings. What else could we expect from a traitor’s bastard?” Slynt stated.

Jon huffed at that. “Like you would know anything about loyalty, Slynt. You betrayed the Baratheons by putting a mad Lannister bastard on the throne in exchange for a cursed castle.” Jon continued to argue his case, but it quickly became clear that the only man on his side was Maester Aemon, and the only neutral party was Cotter Pyke. Seven hells, even the septon was against him! Eventually he proclaimed “We can debate over what rules I broke and my punishment until the Wall melts, but the fact remains that Mance Rayder is coming south with an army of 100,000 wildlings in addition to several dozen giants.”

“Impossible. You can’t get 50 wildlings together before they start killing each other,” Thorne insisted.

“100,000. Mance went to every single clan and told them that they were all going to die unless they came south of the Wall. There’s already at least one band of wildlings on this side of the Wall. They’re led by Tormund, I killed their warg and three others, and Ygritte shot me full of arrows. The plan is for them to attack from the south while Mance hits us from the north. The signal for the attack will be a bonfire, one that Mance said would be the biggest fire the North has ever seen. That’s the truth, the whole truth and nothing but. Now, are you going to hang me, or can I return to my quarters?”

“For the moment, you will be confined to quarters. Personally,” and here Pyke turned to glare at Slynt and Thorne, “I don’t see why we even started this without Mallister. And until he arrives, I see no reason to continue this farce of a trial.”

 

* * *

 

Two weeks passed before Jon heard anything at all, let alone a single piece of news about the world south of the Wall. Fortunately, his old friend Samwell Tarly arrived with news. Stannis Baratheon, brother to the late King Robert and self-proclaimed King in the Narrow Sea had arrived from his seat on Dragonstone and attacked the Free Folk’s army while men from the Shadow Tower attacked from the west. A number had been killed, but there were still more than 90,000 wildlings just north of the Wall. Stannis was now negotiating with Mance while the members of the Watch voted for a new Lord Commander, with the vote leaning towards Mallister.

The next day, Stannis took a break from negotiations with Mance to speak to him, bringing his red priestess with him. After a very interesting conversation, Stannis decided “You are bold enough to be a Stark, that’s good. I would like to offer you a deal, Lord Snow.”

“What kind of deal?”

“A king can remove the taint of bastardy with the stroke of a pen. I will legitimize you and make you Lord of Winterfell, and in exchange, you will drive the remaining ironmen from the North and fight with me.”

“But I’m still a brother of the Night’s Watch. I knelt before a heart tree and swore to hold no lands and father no children.”

The red woman gave a small chuckle at that. “R’hllor is the only true god. A vow sworn to a tree has no more power than a vow sworn to your shoes. Open your heart and let the light of the Lord come in. Burn these weirwoods and accept Winterfell as a gift of the Lord of Light.”

Jon raised his eyebrow at that, but decided not to push it right now. “Fight who, Lord Stannis?”

“First, the ironborn, then the Others, after that, you will help me claim my throne.”

“You want me to fight Robb?! I have already broken my vows with the Watch, but I will _never_ fight my brother. That would be the worst treason in the history of the Starks, and you’re as mad as Aerys to think I’d do it!” Jon proclaimed with a fire he never knew he had. Then he turned on the red woman. “As for burning the weirwoods, forget it! The godswood has always and will always be the heart of Winterfell, and I will never do it. Find yourself another turncloak, because while I may betray the Watch, I will _never_ betray my family.”

“Then you will serve the Lord’s chosen in another way, Jon Snow,” the priestess stated.

“How?” Stannis asked.

“Because he is condemned to die, and like it or not, he is a king’s blood. We can use that to finally wake the dragons from stone, and you won’t even have to deal with the Onion Knight’s arguments as he is going to die anyway.”

Stannis thought about that for a moment before deciding. “You are right, Melisandre. We shall leave for Eastwatch with all haste, then return to Dragonstone. Tell the men that they are to follow the orders of the commanders of the Watch. Snow, you are coming with us, we have a long way to go.”


	2. Braavos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, two quick things. First, I have messed with the timeline a little for this story. In this, Jon, Stannis and Dany have all moved faster than they did in canon. Second, my idea of Braavos is that it is their version of New York City, a melting pot of people, languages and cultures. What else could you expect from a great trading city?

_Black Betha, 100 Miles East of Widow’s Watch, 299 AL-Davos_

 

One month. A whole bloomin’ month they’d been here and Stannis was already preparing to leave, though Davos knew there was no way he could have done what he set out to do. For all his talk about a ‘great battle in the snow,’ Davos had heard nothing of it, yet here they were, on their way back to Dragonstone with a passenger that Stannis would say nothing about. The one time Davos had asked about the lad (who was about the age that Matthos was when he died,) Stannis refused to say his name, only stating that he was “the bastard son of a dead man.” Really, what was the point of naming him Hand of the King when Stannis wouldn’t even tell him what the plan was?

Not that he couldn’t guess the plan, not with the Red Woman coming along. He had saved Edric and Gendry both only for her to find another victim, one that he couldn’t do a thing to save. But he still wanted to get to know the boy, so he walked to the boy’s cabin. “We’re about a day out from Eastwatch now, and we should be at Dragonstone in about six weeks.” The lad simply nodded, though he did stare at the sigil on his doublet for a good time. “Why are you staring at my sigil?”

“I’m trying to remember who you are, my lord. There aren’t many houses with ships for their sigil, but I certainly don’t remember one with a white circle on the sail.”

Davos had to laugh at that. “Not many people have mistaken my onion for a simple circle before! I’m not sure if I should thank you or resent you for that.”

“Onion, you said? Then you must be the famous Onion Knight, Ser Davos Seaworth, the smuggler that saved Storm’s End from starvation,” the boy said.

“Aye, and who are you?”

“Jon Snow, bastard son of the late Lord Eddard Stark.” Ah, so that’s what Stannis meant. Even he knew of the Stark bastard, and that he had been convicted as a traitor to the Watch, which meant he was going to die anyway. Damn that Red Woman! “You’re close to Lord Stannis, are you not? Maybe you could tell me what you know of the war since my brother, Robb was crowned.”

“Aye, I could, but I thought you had been at the Wall at the time? How did you know he‘d been crowned?”

Snow laughed at that. “Just because most of the Watch is made up of criminals doesn’t mean that there aren’t some of us who stay in contact with our families. For the Starks, serving in the Watch is a great honour and I received letters from both my father and Robb while there. Come to think of it, I think I was the only one to receive letters, other than the Old Bear. Anyways, we left on a ranging right after I learned that Robb had been crowned, and when I returned, they wouldn't let me read any of his letters. So, what happened after that?”

“Well, let’s see. Renly Baratheon was crowned king in the Reach, and many of the Stormlords swore allegiance to him, as did the Tyrells, but he was killed by one of the Red Woman’s spells. The Stormlords joined with Stannis, and we attacked King’s Landing, but the Imp stopped us.”

“How?” Snow asked.

“Wildfire. The Imp had the alchemists make gallons of the stuff and filled a ship with it. Then he launched the ship towards us, with the wildfire leaking out and an archer set it on fire. The fleet was decimated and three of my sons died as a result. Stannis still attempted to take the city, but the dwarf held long enough for Tywin to arrive with his men and the men of the Reach, who had defected to the Lannisters after Renly's death.”

Davos was shocked when Snow had the audacity to _laugh_ at that. “Well done, Tyrion! I knew that he was smart, but I didn’t know he was a bloody _genius_!”

“You know the Imp?”

“We met at Winterfell when Robert came to ask my father to be his Hand, then travelled north to the Wall together. Over those few weeks, he helped me out and we became good friends.”

Davos couldn’t completely trust the bastard after hearing that, but he couldn’t stop giving him the news now. Not without telling him about his brother. “Now, as for Robb, after he was crowned, he attempted to make an alliance with Renly, but before it could be finalized, Renly was killed. In fact, some of the rumours suggested that it was Lady Stark that had killed Renly. Robb also attempted an alliance with Balon Greyjoy, and sent the man’s son as an envoy.”

“WHAT?! He didn’t!” Davos could only confirm the tale with a nod of his head. “Robb, how could you have been so naïve? I can guess what happened after that: Balon decided not to ally with Robb but to attack the North, am I right?”

“Aye. That girl of his took Deepwood Motte, one of the other squids took Moat Cailin, and the boy attacked Torrhen’s Square before taking Winterfell with only ten men.”

“Ten men?! That traitorous bastard Theon took Winterfell with only ten men?” Snow asked incredulously. Then insight came to him. “Of course, the attack on Torrhen’s Square was a diversion. He knew if Torrhen’s Square was attacked, then Winterfell would send their soldiers to defend it. And using his knowledge of Winterfell, he could easily get ten men inside the walls to take and hold it. Damn him!”

Davos decided the quickest way to calm him down would be some good news, so he pressed on. “Your brother has also defeated several Lannister armies and taken several of their castles. And he was recently married.”

Snow raised his eyebrow at that. “Oh? So which Frey did he choose as a bride?”

Now it was Davos’ turn to look incredulous. “A Frey? Why would the Lord of Winterfell and King of the North marry a Frey?”

“Because of a deal he made, didn’t you know?” Davos had to shake his head, so Snow decided to explain. “Okay, it was in the early days of the war. Our father had been held in the black cells for about a month, the Kingslayer was laying siege to Riverrun after smashing the Tully forces at the Golden Tooth, and Robb had just crossed the Neck. He needed to decide which Lannister army to attack, and no matter which one he went with, he needed the support of the Freys if he was to win. So, in return for their support, Robb promised to foster two Freys at Winterfell, take a Frey as a squire, and to marry a Frey girl. Old Walder tried to get a betrothal for my youngest sister, Arya as well, but Robb refused.”

“Well, that would explain why most of the Freys left his army then. He’s married a foreign girl from Essos. I think her name is Talisa Maegyr of Volantis.”

“Maegyr? Well damnation. At least that was a _good_ mistake. And what’s the latest on Daenarys Targaryen?”

“We don’t hear much of her, but I think she was in Qarth last we did hear, and there’s a rumour that she has dragons.”

“Dragons? Well, _that_ will be a game changer,” Snow said before changing the subject. The two men continued to talk for several hours before Davos headed back to have dinner with Stannis and Melisandre.

 

_Braavos, Essos-299 AL-Jon_

 

The day after his talk with Davos, the ship was hit by a terrible storm that lasted for two weeks. Jon was released from his cabin in order to help the crew, but the ship took enough damage that it was forced to dock at the nearest port: the Free City of Braavos. Oddly enough, though he had been a virtual prisoner on the ship, in Braavos, Jon was basically a free man-even to the point of being allowed to carry a sword. The only explanation he could come up with was that Stannis had come to believe him to be much like his father-a man of his word, bound by his honour.

Within his first hour of wandering the city, Jon was more fascinated by Braavos then Sansa could have ever been by King’s Landing, and by the end of the day, he knew there could never be another city like it in all the world. The people seemed to come in every shape, size and colour! Westeros saw the occasional Summer Islander, but it was nothing compared to this! Not only did he see the white skin of the Andals, First Men and Valyrians, but the darker skin of the Rhoynar, the olive skin of the infamous Dothraki, the black skin of the Summer Islanders, the yellow skin of those living along the coast of the Jade Sea, and every other shade of skin he could think of! And to add to the variety of the melting pot of people, Jon was convinced he heard more languages in Braavos than he had heard of. Dothraki, every variant of Valyrian, the Common Tongue, the Traders Tongue, Ghiscari and languages he had no name for.

And to add to the colour of the city were the bravos that seemed to be everywhere he went. The bravos were pairs of young, brash swordsmen that travelled at night that seemed to challenge anyone with a sword to duels-rarely lethal though. Jon had discovered them his first night in Braavos and had to duel at least a dozen of the bravos before returning to the Inn of the Green Eel. After a few days though, Jon had started deliberately staying out at night in order to duel the bravos, often using his left hand in order to keep in practice with that hand, besides, it was fun.

Another advantage to travelling at night was that after a duel, the bravos would often share drinks and tell him some of the most fantastic tales he’d ever heard-many of them featuring Daenarys Targaryen. By the time he had finished exploring the first island of Braavos, Jon was certain he had figured out the entire tale-without exaggerations. Daenarys Stormborn had basically been sold to some Dothraki horselord, by her own brother no less in exchange for an army to regain the Targaryen crown! What Viserys was thinking when he did that, Jon could never guess. He should have known that condoning slavery would _never_ be welcome in Westeros, especially with Ser Jorah Mormont as an advisor. In any case, though the marriage started off rocky, they had eventually fallen in love and Khal Drogo moved to prepare for an invasion of Westeros after some wine merchant attempted to kill her for Robert Baratheon. During those preparations though, Drogo had died due to a maegi’s curse, and in vengeance, Daenarys had burned the witch alive and bound to Drogo’s funeral pyre. Dany herself had walked into the pyre and come out the next morning with two more titles: the Unburnt and Mother of Dragons-the dragons having been hatched from three believed to be petrified eggs given to her as a wedding present. From the pyre, she and the remnants of Drogo’s horde had moved south to the mysterious city of Qarth and attempted to gain support to return to Westeros. She failed and made enemies out of the Warlocks of Qarth after destroying the House of the Undying. After leaving Qarth, she moved on to Astapor, where she took an army of Unsullied and slaughtered the slave masters in the city. Dany then moved on to Yunkai and Meereen, where she again slaughtered the slave masters before freeing the slaves, earning herself two more titles: Breaker of Chains and Mhysa-an old Ghis word for Mother. Dany had also gained the allegiance of the mercenary group called the Second Sons at Yunkai and the famous Ser Barristan Selmy in Astapor and was currently ruling in Meereen. Viserys on the other hand had died before Drogo did, and had apparently been killed _by_ Drogo, and many of the tales said that Drogo had killed him by pouring molten gold on his head-fulfilling the promise to give him a crown.

By comparison, gossip, let alone trustworthy news from Westeros was rare. Few in Braavos even knew who Robert Baratheon or Eddard Stark were, let alone that they had both died the previous year. They knew about the Battle of the Blackwater, but only because some famous pirate from the Summer Islands had been a part of it, supporting Stannis in exchange for a chance to have Cersei. Yet quite by accident, Jon would discover the one Braavosi who not only knew who Eddard Stark was, but had also known him, and one of his daughters.

It was a fine evening, and Jon had just dispatched one of the few things in Braavos that made him decide to _never_ live in the city, no matter what: a Faceless Man, though one in training. It took him a while to recognize them, but fortunately if one studied the people long enough, they could be found easily enough, after all, one can’t change the shape of their bones. Fortunately they were more trained in assassinations than they were in actual fighting, which made dispatching them easy. After that, he had a nice, diverting fight with a pair of bravos and was about to start heading back when he spotted something he had never seen before: a bravos on his own, and one that was at least two decades older than any other he had seen. “You fought them with you left hand, yet you are right-handed. Why is this, I am wondering?”

“And you are on your own, why is that?” Jon countered. “No other bravos goes around on his own, no matter how good he thinks he is.”

“ _They_ are not the First Sword to the Sealord of Braavos, boy.”

Jon raised an eyebrow at the Braavosi. “How long have you been the First Sword?”

“I will tell you if you answer my question.”

Jon grinned at the man. “Very well, I will. About four months ago my commander was attacked by a living corpse, and in order to destroy it, I threw a lantern on it and burned my hand. As a result, I needed to learn how to do everything, including how to fight with my left hand. When my right hand recovered, I kept practicing with my left to give myself more of a challenge. Now, I can fight as well with my left hand as my right. Now, how long have you been the First Sword?”

“Ten years I have been the First Sword, why do you ask?”

“So that I would know that I have the honour of speaking to Syrio Forel, the man who taught my little sister to fight. She spoke very highly of you,” Jon told Syrio.

Syrio’s eyes widened in understanding. “Ah, so you are the brother that gave Arya her Needle. She was a very promising student, a pity our lessons were cut short by the Lannisters. Would you be interested in your own lessons with me? I am wondering.”

“I don’t think I’m suited to learn water dancing, Syrio.”

“Ah, but I was not speaking of the water dancing, Jon Snow. I am speaking of the Jar’Kai, a rare and hard-to-learn type of dancing. You are the first person I have met who could learn it, for the Jar’Kai requires two swords, one in each hand. Are you interested, Jon Snow?” Jon only grinned in response.

So for the rest of their time in Braavos, Jon spent every available moment at Nabbo’s Bridge training with Syrio in the art of Jar’Kai or practising it against the numerous bravos. Finally, after two weeks of training and a total of eight weeks in Braavos, the _Black Bertha_ was repaired, and they set off for Dragonstone. This time, their voyage couldn’t have passed more peacefully, despite having to avoid the Lannister ships.


	3. Dragonstone

_Dragonstone, 299 AL-Melisandre_

Melisandre of Asshai smiled as they pulled into the dark harbour of Dragonstone, it was finally time, now they could sacrifice one with a king's blood and wake dragons from stone. And considering how many dragons were carved into the stone of the castle, her chosen warrior of light would have many dragons to lead. She then turned to consider the young bastard that would soon experience the purest death. He was an odd one, this Jon Snow and a study in contradictions. The bastard son of one of the most honourable men in Westeros, yet his father had also confessed to a treason he never committed. The lad himself was sworn to the Night's Watch, yet remained loyal to his brother, and had slept with a wildling. He was a Northerner, yet the second he stepped foot on Dragonstone, the whole _island_ seemed to thrum in happiness. What kind of magic was this, and how was it connected to the bastard? "What do you feel, Jon Snow? Something in Dragonstone shifted when you stepped on the island, so, what do you feel?"

The bastard seemed to hesitate before answering. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but it feels like . . . _home_ , more so than Winterfell ever did." Both Melisandre and Stannis raised their eyebrows at that, what could possibly cause such feelings, especially in a Stark bastard?

While Davos escorted Snow to the dungeons, Melisandre and Stannis headed to the map room to decide on a strategy. If they had paid attention, they'd have noticed small details that would have had them scratching their heads, but as it was, they didn't have so much as a clue until they reached what they believed to be the map room. The room they walked into still looked out to the Narrow Sea, but the map was gone, instead they found a table filled with letters, the room that Stannis had provided for Davos' use as Hand of the King. "What happened? How could everything have moved, yet not _look_ like it had moved?" Stannis demanded.

"I don't know. The only thing I could imagine doing it is the pulse of magic I felt when we returned. Yet I do not know what caused the magic," Melisandre replied. Their confusion only grew worse when Stannis' daughter Shireen arrived crying, saying that she couldn't find her way around the castle at all. This was the most shocking thing anyone could have said, as Shireen had lived at Dragonstone for her whole life. How could so much of the castle have changed so quickly?

_Meereen, Slavers Bay, Essos, 299 AL-Jorah_

The instant Jon Snow stepped foot on Dragonstone, the pulse of magic that shifted the interior of the castle was also felt halfway around the world by Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion, a trio of young dragons around the size of a horse (Drogon being a little larger, Rhaegal about the size of one and Viserion a little smaller.) They alone knew what the wave meant, and with a quick conversation made their decision. Rhaegal immediately took off and flew towards Dragonstone, intent on his goal.

Daenarys was the first human to see Rhaegal leave Meereen and immediately turned to her oldest advisor. "Ser Jorah, if you wish to prove yourself loyal to me, follow Rhaegal until you discover where he is going and then return to me with the answer. If you succeed, you may rejoin my Queensguard, if not, you are to never be in my presence, or in my kingdoms ever again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Khaleesi, I do. I will follow him to the ends of the earth if necessary," Ser Jorah answered. He knew it was the only way to regain her trust after the revelation that he had once spied for the Usurper, Robert Baratheon in exchange for a royal pardon. He took a look at the only two men he trusted to keep his queen safe: Strong Belwas and his 'squire' Ser Barristan Selmy and both nodded at him, they would protect her against her enemies, even the flamboyant sellsword who claimed to be on their side: Daario Naharis, captain of the Stormcrows and Second Sons.

_Dragonstone, 299 AL-Stannis_

It took them a week to find their way around the castle again. When they had finished mapping the castle, Melisandre was shocked to report that it now looked much like a large, three-headed dragon, and the map room was now inside the largest head of the dragon, looking out over Westeros. And with that known, the lady Melisandre changed the site of the sacrifice: a chamber that she said would be where the fire was produced if the castle were a real dragon, the perfect place to ignite the fire that would birth dragons from stone. As they marched Snow down to the chamber, he started saying something that surprised him. "My name is Jon Snow. I was a brave man, a good ranger, though a terrible steward. I came from . . ."

"What's he doing, my king?" Melisandre asked.

"Last rites for a Night's Watchman. It's the closest they have to a eulogy, and always follows the same formula."

"And now my watch is ended," Snow ended just as they arrived at the chamber. He let himself be tied to the pyre without a struggle, and for that, Stannis decided to douse him in oil in order to speed his death.

"Lord of Light, come to us in our darkness. We offer you this brother and descendant of kings. Take him and his blood, and birth dragons from stone. For the night is dark and full of terrors," Melisandre prayed. And with that, she dropped the torch onto the pyre, and it immediately burst into the largest, hottest flames that either Stannis or Melisandre had ever seen. To their surprise, it kept growing and growing until they had to flee the room. Snow had never screamed, so Stannis had to assume that he had been incinerated instantly.

_Rook's Rest, Crownlands, 299 AL-Tyrion_

Tyrion was visiting Rook's rest in order to escape the derision his father sent his way, and the murder plots by either his sister or vicious idiot of a nephew. But more than that, he went to try and learn what he could about what Stannis was up to. His room in Rook's Rest had a clear line of sight to Dragonstone, meaning he himself could spy on the rival king and not rely on anyone else as Varys, Baelish or his father were wont to do. Typically he would only watch the island during the day, but Bronn had called him in the middle of the night. "What do you make of that?" he asked his patron.

Tyrion looked out to the island, and was shocked to see the three heads were each spewing fire into the sea. "The last time something like that happened, it was about two years before Aegon the Conqueror launched his invasion. When asked about it, he claimed he had been hatching the last of the three dragons, Vhagar. I hope this isn't as bad an omen as it was the last time."

_Dragonstone, 299 AL-Balerion_

The Red Woman had succeeded, but not in the way she planned. A dragon had been woken, but a dragon born of human flesh. He had died and been reborn as he should have been. His rebirth had revealed many secrets that had been hidden from him, admittedly for his own protection, but now that they had been revealed, he had new allegiances, and new priorities. First would be clothes, armour and weapons, then he would finish the House that birthed the Usurper. The name Baratheon would never again live after he claimed his grandfather's throne. After that, he would need to secure his mother's birthplace from those wretched ironborn. And once those bastards were destroyed both there and in their own home, he would need to reunite with his cousin, who _should_ relinquish his crown to him. Once that was done, an alliance with Dorne should replenish the army long enough for his aunt to arrive, and together they could deal with the arrogant Lannisters, and those overgrown roses, the Tyrells. Lord Arryn should be as easy to win over as his ancestor, just a ride on a dragon and the Vale would belong to the Targaryens again. But right now, beware Stannis Baratheon and Melisandre of Asshai, for Balerion Targaryen, the First of His Name was coming for their blood. And they would pay their debt to him, in Fire and Blood!


	4. The Dragonborn Comes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I have a quick note on the timing of these events, which is very different from either canon: Robb has only recently married Talisa, and the Karstarks are still with him, (though for how much longer only they know,) and a few loyal Freys like Olyvar are still there, while Arya is with the Brotherhood, who have not captured the Hound yet, but as noted in Chapter One, they have sold Gendry to Melisandre. The events in King's Landing are currently around The Climb and is moving fairly fast, while Theon, well, Theon will be seen in the next chapter.

**The Dragonborn Comes**

**Chapter Three: The Dragonborn Comes**

_Dragonstone, 299 AL-Balerion_

Balerion's first stop after waking up from the pyre was a small room that could only be opened by one with Targaryen blood, a room that belonged to his ancestor Rhaenys, the rider of the famous Meraxes. Why he went there, he didn't know, all he knew was that he need to go inside. To his great surprise, in the room he found a chest of clothes that fit him perfectly, and all the tunics bore the Targaryen crest, publicly proclaiming his new loyalty to his true father's family. There was another chest, and when he opened it, he discovered three blades, all made of Valyrian steel, though one of them was thinner and lighter than the others. Also inside was a suit of armour, a crown of Valyrian steel and rubies, and a letter . . . meant for him? Curious, Bael picked up the note, opened it and read it.

_To my descendant, Balerion_

_No doubt you are wondering just how it is that I am writing to you, when we are separated by 300 years. Growing up in the North, as I know you did, you must have heard the stories of the greenseers and the First Men who shared in that ability. Well, it was not just them that had the ability to see the future. Our ancestor, Daenys Targaryen was the most famous member of our house to do so, she was the reason that we survived the Doom of Valyria, for she predicted it. Due to her influence, our family settled Dragonstone and survived the Doom. Fortunately for our House, I also inherited the ability, thus how I am able to write to you, despite the nearly three centuries that separate us._

_First, let me assure you that everything you saw in the flames is true. You are the only child of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. Second, though you may claim the title of Lord of the Seven Kingdoms for now, your elder brother Aegon VI still lives, and he will want his birthright. Third, the weapons before you are for you, Aegon and Daenarys. One is Vindice, a sword I had made specifically for you. The second is Blackfyre, that is for you to use as well, until Aegon returns to Westeros. The third is Dark Sister, and that is for Daenarys. The armour and crown is that of my brother-husband, Aegon, and they are meant for you. Use them well._

_While your plan to reunite with your cousin is a good one, as is the plan to regain the Vale, you will need Dorne as well in order to win the Iron Throne. Look to Edric Dayne and Oberyn Martell for alliances. Do not trust anyone who believes in that fire god, for they will seek to use you for their own purposes. Third, though I do not understand the advice I am giving you, do not trust the mockingbird, the flayed man or the towered bridge, and beware the lioness but you can trust the spider and the bear. What I do know is that the bridge and the flayed man are bought by the lion, and the lion will fight until the crowned lion is dead, leaving his younger brother on the throne. Finally, remember what you learned as a member of the Night's Watch, the White Walkers are coming, and only our family can stop them._

_Only one last thing can I give you: the words of the prophecy that you are meant to fulfil, the Song of Ice and Fire._

_The dragon shall lie with the wolf_

_The Prince That was Promised shall be born_

_Stag and Lion bring Dragon to twilight_

_The Prince shall be hidden as a baseborn_

_As ice-white wolf shall the dragon be hidden_

_Until the Watchmen find unjust incrimination_

_From the ashes a dragon shall be woken_

_A light from Night's shadow shall spring_

_Renewed shall be line that was broken_

_The crownless again shall be king_

_Then shall the Final Night be wrought_

_The three dragons fly to the furthest North_

_Through fire and blade shall the Night be fought_

_Through fire and blood shall Night fall_

_And seasons brought to balance thenceforth_

_Good luck,_

_Rhaenys Targaryen_

_PS: Look at your reflection, and you will notice some changes that show the world the truth of your birth._

Curious, he took the armour, polished it, and looked at his reflection. To his shock and amazement, he now had the snow-white hair of his ancestors, and their unearthly beauty, though he still had the cold, grey eyes of the Starks, the one thing about his looks that did not change in the fire. Combining his new looks with his ancestor's armour and crown, a malicious plan came to mind, one that would terrify the garrison, and confuse the two responsible for his rebirth.

_Dragonstone, 299 AL-Davos_

"What is so funny, Ser Davos?" the Red Woman demanded.

Davos explained once he finally stopped laughing. "For all your talk about the power of your fire god and the potency of the blood of kings, you have not so much as _one_ dragon to show for burning Jon Snow! Thousands of years worth of kings in his ancestry, and you don't have one dragon! Now, Your Grace, do you still believe I was wrong to spare Gendry and Edric?"

Stannis said nothing, he just continued to stare out the window towards King's Landing. Davos could guess why: his king was berating himself for his poor decisions surrounding Melisandre, but it would do him no good, no more than his own regrets over the past. However, before he could say anything to convince him to focus on the future, one of the soldiers from the garrison burst in. "Your Grace, my lady, _he_ is here!"

"Who is?" Davos demanded.

The soldier stammered a few times before Melisandre finally slapped him back to his senses. "He is coming! Aegon the Conqueror is coming here! He's in the castle right now!"

" _What?!_ " Stannis said in shock. "Aegon the Conqueror has been dead for two hundred and sixty years, how could he be here?"

"I don't know, Your Grace, but I swear on the Old Gods, the New Gods and my lady's one god that it's him! He wears the armour, he has Blackfyre, he wears the crown, there is no doubt that he's a Targaryen. And Your Grace, he says he is here to end the family of the Usurper, and the 'Red Witch,' his words, not mine, my lady."

Just then, the door burst open again, revealing the very man that had been described. The man _was_ clearly of Valyrian blood, the nearly inhuman beauty and snow white hair made that obvious. Just as obvious was the fact that his armour and swords (wait, why didn't he mention the man had two swords?) were made of Valyrian steel, and that he had the crown of Aegon the Conqueror. What shocked Davos was the fact that the soldier was _right_! The man before them was the very image of the Aegon Targaryen that was in the books that Shireen had loaned him so that he could learn to read. Then he opened his mouth, and Davos could not understand a single word he said, until the Red Woman spoke. "He is speaking High Valyrian, and he says that you, my king must die for the treason committed against your king, Aerys Targaryen, the Second of his Name, and for kinslaying, and I must die for the murder of Renly Baratheon and the suppression of the people's right to choose who they worship. As for you, Ser Davos, and you Daeron, he says that unless you choose to defend us, he will let you live." Young Daeron immediately undid his belt and let it fall while Davos himself just stepped back. He knew he had no talent for fighting with swords, and he was confident that his king would be victorious.

But it was not to be. Melisandre attempted to stop him by scooping fireballs out of the braziers and throwing them at him, but they were completely ineffective, and as a result drew his attention. Despite the fact that he was busy duelling Stannis, she was the first to fall due to a mortal blow when 'Aegon' stabbed her in the bowels. Stannis and 'Aegon' duelled for a few more minutes, before the dragon sliced off half of Stannis' arm. "Who are you?" Stannis demanded.

Then, in the Common Tongue he replied "My name is Balerion Targaryen, but before my rebirth I was known as Jon Snow."

"Snow?" Stannis said in shock, just before Balerion took his head.

"What happened?" Melisandre asked, as she tried to contain the flowing blood with her waning magic.

"You woke the dragon from ice, witch. And soon the crownless shall be king, and the broken line shall be renewed," he stated cryptically before taking _her_ head. The man (could it really be Jon Snow?) turned to Davos then and asked "Will you resist me, Ser? I know you are a man of honour, and I need people like you on my side."

Davos thought for a minute before replying "If you swear that you mean no harm to Shireen Baratheon, then I will not fight you."

"I swear on my parents' graves, by the New Gods and Old that I mean no harm to the girl, and that she will be treated as she deserves-the last of an old House with ties to both of my own," Targaryen answered.

"Then I swear my services to you, Your Grace, from this day to the end of my days."

"And I accept your offer, Ser Davos. Now come, we have work to do."


	5. Winterfell

_White Harbor, 299 AL-Balerion_

In the eleven days that had passed since his rebirth, Balerion had received another confirmation of the truth of his visions: the appearance of one of his aunt's 'children,' a green dragon that she called Rhaegal, after his father, he presumed. Rhaegal had proven that he was already deadly when one of the Baratheon holdouts at Dragonstone tried to kill him, and Rhaegal had burned him alive. (That was actually how Balerion had learned of his arrival.) Of course, afterwards he had to reassure the remainder that he would not burn those who disagreed with him as Melisandre had. He _did_ demand that any who truly believed in the Red God leave for Essos immediately. What surprised him was that only around a dozen people boarded the ship, everyone else had only paid lip service, preferring the New Gods to the fire god.

After they had been sent off, Balerion had written a letter to the Martells, asking for their loyalty and to meet him at Riverrun in three months time. Once that had been done, he and Davos had set off for White Harbor, with instructions that after he had disembarked, Davos would sail for Mereen in order to deliver another letter to his aunt. And now, nine days after leaving Dragonstone, Balerion was finally back in the North, and on his way to saving his family.

His first act upon landing was to search out Lord Wyman Manderly, the lord of the city, and one of the lords that could always be counted on to support the Starks, and avenge any wrongs committed against them. Luckily he found him within a few hours. "How do I know that I can trust you have no ill intentions to the Starks when you won't show me your face?" he demanded.

"Why, my lord of lard, how could I possibly have any ill intentions towards my family?" Balerion responded, using a nickname he had used back when he was still around Rickon's age, one that only he and Arya had ever used. Robb and Bran had come up with their own nicknames for the very obese man, while proper Sansa never did.

Luckily Wyman still remembered the nickname, and knew who would have used it. "Jon? But how? I thought you had taken the black!"

"All oaths I made to the Watch are now negated. And my name isn't Jon anymore, it's Balerion."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say that I've learned the truth about my parentage, and that revelation gave me my real name."

"Really?" Wyman responded curiously. Within moments of asking, he realized the truth. "You're not Ned's son, you're Rhaegar's, are you not?"

"His _trueborn_ son. My mother and father eloped, there was no kidnapping. Now, I need some help regaining Winterfell, can you provide a cart of salted fish?"

"Easily, but how will that help? And do you intend to reclaim the Iron Throne?"

"First, I need a way into Winterfell, one that will allow me to bring my armour and weapons, and that will give it to me. Second, the throne is mine, but rest assured, I seek no quarrel with my cousin. Verily, I intend to convince him to replay Torrhen Stark and surrender his crown to me willingly," the young dragon answered. "Oh, and one more thing, could you bring me some old clothes, a bow, full quiver, and a bag of ashes?"

_Winterfell, 299 AL-Theon_

Theon Greyjoy watched with a grim look as Asha entered Winterfell accompanied by only a score of men . . . and a dirty fish monger? What was this? "What's with the fish monger, and why didn't you bring more men?"

"Thought you might like a taste of home, brother. And you're going home, father wants a word with you."

"What for?" Theon demanded, and noting that the fish monger had reacted to Asha's message.

"He never wanted anyone to take Winterfell, it's too far from the sea, and our strength. Torrhen's Square is the furthest inland he wanted anyone to go, so we're leaving. Now, would you like some of this man's wares, or no?"

"Why would you be willing to sell to me, fish monger?" Theon demanded. "And where did you come from?"

The fish monger, who was dressed in badly patched clothes and very dirty replied "I'm a Barrowton man, milord, and I makes me livin' sellin' fish. Don't matter to me who I sells them to."

Theon looked carefully at the man, trying to see if he could recognize him. There was something very familiar about that voice, but he couldn't find anything in his face that was familiar. "Fine, you can sell your wares here. Asha, how long will you stay?"

"Two or three days, no more. After that, I return to Deepwood Motte with ten men, those of yours that wish to leave, and the rest will be mine." Neither of them noticed when the fish monger left, a smile on his face.

_Winterfell, 299 AL-Osha_

Osha was watching after the little lords and the Reed children in the crypts when she noticed a flame that was not theirs inside the crypts. Gentle Hodor was with the boys, so it couldn't be him, but would an Ironborn really come down here? She couldn't take the chance, not with the little lords' lives at stake, so she grabbed her spear and went towards the torch.

When she found the source of the light, Osha was surprised to find it in front of the niche for Lyanna Stark . . . and he was _talking_ to her? "I'm sorry for not coming down here sooner, but I only just learned the truth, your brother never told me. He just let everyone believe me to be his bastard son, but I can understand why, the Usurper would have killed me if he had learned about me. I just wish that he had at least told me the truth, even if-" He stopped as soon as Osha put her spear against the back of his neck. "Osha, I presume? You certainly move with the silence I've come to expect from the Free Folk."

"Who are you, and what do you want with us?" Osha demanded.

"My only wish is to help you retake Winterfell from these pirates, Osha, but I do need to know who else can fight besides you and me?" the stranger asked.

Just then, Hodor came in with Bran and the Reed boy. "Osha, I thought I heard you talking to someone. Who is-" Bran stopped for a few seconds before asking in shock "Jon? Is that you?"

The stranger, who had turned to face Bran, gave him a grin. "For the most part," he replied, before going over to Hodor and giving Bran a hug. "It's great to see you, Bran, especially considering the rumours I'd heard out there." Bran just grinned at his . . . brother, if Osha was remembering right. Her little lord was clearly glad to see him again, as this was the happiest she had ever seen him.

Then the Reed boy had to go and muck things up by opening his mouth. "But how? You're supposed to be leading the Watch against a horde of enemies!"

Jon turned to the boy and asked "What are you talking about?"

"You and Bran are the only ones that my dreams have been clear about. I have always seen you with Ghost, dressed all in black and leading others in black against an army without banners or rules. And behind them, an army of the dead led by ice made flesh."

Jon scoffed at his dreams. "Well, you can thank the late Stannis Baratheon's fire priestess for the change in destiny. My watch is ended and I'm living my own life now, to the seven hells and fourteen fires with your dreams." Osha grinned, she liked this boy. "Now, Bran, how's your archery practice been going?"

Bran gave him a grin. "Great, I almost always hit at least the outer bull's-eye now."

Jon grinned at his brother before grabbing one of the bags next to him and tossing it to him. "Good, then you're going to be our archer. Osha, can either of the Reeds use weapons?"

"The boy is useless, but his sister is good with a spear."

"And what about you? I'd assume that you're good with just about anything, considering you're one of the Free Folk." Osha just grinned at him. "Perfect. Bran, can you and Rickon contact your wolves?" Bran nodded. "Even better. Now, here's the plan . . ."

_Winterfell, 299 AL-Theon_

It was Asha's last day at Winterfell, and to Theon's great joy, none of his men were leaving with her. All had enough confidence in his abilities and knowledge of Winterfell to stay and believe they could either hold it or escape. Asha and her remaining ten men were about to leave, (along with Reek and his pouch of money) when a man in . . . was that Valryian steel _armour_? stood in her way. "You shall not pass!" he cried out.

"You what?" Asha cried out in shock. She turned to her men and ordered "Ride him down!"

"Asha and Theon Greyjoy, you have defied the peace treaty made between your father and the Usurper, Robert Baratheon. For that crime, I shall do what Aegon the Conqueror should have done. _Dracarys_!"

As the Ironborn charged him, a winged creature dived down at them . . . and opened it's mouth, breathing _fire_ onto them! It couldn't possibly be a dragon, they were all dead! Yet here it was, and it had killed all of Asha's men, while leaving her and Reek alone. That . . . _dragon_ had left Theon with only one thing he could do. "Kill him!" The remaining forty Ironborn charged at the man, only to be shot at from behind by . . . Bran Stark? And the Reed girl and Osha were going after his men with spears! And as if things couldn't get any worse, Summer and Shaggy Dog started attacking as well, along with . . . Ghost? Theon turned to stare at the armoured man, and then realized he _recognized_ him. "Jon? Is that you?"

"It's Balerion now, Greyjoy. I always told Robb that you weren't to be trusted," he said before charging out to attack him. Theon was so shocked that he didn't even reach for his sword until it was too late. The only reason that Theon survived was because Reek pulled out his own sword and defended him. Jon looked at Reek in surprise, only to pull back in a greater shock. "Ramsay Snow!" he whispered. Ramsay Snow, the Bastard of Bolton? _He_ was Reek?

As the bastards duelled, Summer tore out Dagmer's throat, the Reed girl shot a dozen of his men, while Ghost captured Asha and the dragon burned the remainder. Just then, he heard a grunt, and turning back to the duel, saw that Jon had beaten Ramsay, gutting the Bastard of the Dreadfort. "Now what, Snow? You going to kill me too?"

"No, I didn't pass your sentence, traitor. You're going south to Robb, but before you die, you're going to see _my_ judgment on your people. We are going to see how iron stands up against fire, and how your Drowned God stands against Rhaegal."

While he was talking, Theon pulled his own sword and attempted to take Snow's head. But the bastard managed to block it with his own sword. "And now we come to a dilemma," Theon said. "If you kill me, you fail to buy your head from Robb. But if you don't kill me, I'm going to kill you," he finished, just as he lunged at Snow.

"I don't need to kill you in order to beat you, Turncloak," Snow stated, just as he caught Theon's sword. And with a twirl of their interlocked swords, he disarmed Theon and followed it up by cutting off his right hand. "You and your sister are going back with me, Theon Turncloak, to answer for your crimes." Snow then spoke a few words in a language that Theon had never heard before, and the dragon landed next to him. Another line of the language, and the dragon burned the stub of his arm, causing Theon to cry out in pain before collapsing, dead to the world.

_Winterfell, 299 AL-Balerion_

Though he had planned on only staying in Winterfell for a few hours after defeating the Ironborn, necessity (and Theon's wound) demanded he stay for a week after the battle. Fortunately it allowed him time to catch up with Bran and Rickon, tell them the truth about his parents, promise them that he would send Catelyn home as soon as possible, and make his demands on the Ironborn in Deepwood Motte and Moat Cailin. And with Rhaegal, it was easy to know when they obeyed his demands, and then destroy them. Sometimes his newfound bloodlust scared Bael, but the visions he had seen in the flames had taught him that in the game of thrones, you win or you die. His father had done his best, but he died because he didn't think about the effects one piece on the board would have on all the others.

As he prepared to leave Winterfell, he noticed Bran and Jojen talking again. Normally he wouldn't worry about that, but Osha was always worried whenever they spoke, and Bael trusted Osha most out of all those left in Winterfell (outside of Maester Luwin, that is.) So when he sneaked up on them and heard them talking about three-eyed ravens and greenseers, and worst of all, going north, he interrupted them. "Now what's this about Bran going north?" he demanded.

"He needs to go north to find the three-eyed raven. Do you really think that this southern war is as important as the war north of the Wall? Even if you united all seven kingdoms again, you couldn't stop them."

"And you really think that this raven can help you stop them? I swear by the Old Gods beyond counting, the gods of Valyria and the Seven New Gods that I _will_ stop them, and I don't need an army to do so. All I need is my brother, my aunt and their dragons. Osha!" The former wildling came as soon as Bael called. "Osha, I want you and Maester Luwin to make certain that Bran and Jojen stay here in Winterfell. Under no circumstances are they to leave. If Reed proves too much trouble, send him home." Osha immediately agreed, and Bael knew that she'd almost enjoy watching the other boy, just waiting for an excuse to send him packing. Bael smiled, said his goodbyes, and mounted Rhaegal, guiding him south towards the Neck, with Ghost following on the ground.


	6. Vindice

_Greywater Watch, 298 AL-Balerion_

Riding on the now much larger Rhaegal was like nothing Bael had experienced in his life, and he instantly fell in love with it. How many people had actually managed to _ride_ a dragon after the Doom? If it were not for his destiny and his family, Bael could have fallen off Rhaegal and died the happiest man in the world. Unfortunately, it was not something he could do often, due to his two prisoners. The two Greyjoys hadn't been any trouble, not after they realized that Rhaegal really did answer to him. As it was, the three of them had headed south to the Neck, and now Bael was at the one place where he could undoubtedly learn the truth of his birth: Greywater Watch, ruled by the Reeds, and more important Howland Reed, the last surviving member of the fight at the Tower of Joy. Greywater Watch itself was a wonder, for though it was a true castle, it _moved_ , thanks to the fact that it was built on top of an enormous raft, perfect for navigating the swamps of the Neck.

As they neared the current resting place of Greywater Watch, an arrow landed directly in front of him. "That's far enough, stranger. Who are you, and what business do you have with Greywater Watch?"

"My name is my own business, and I would speak with Lord Reed," Bael replied.

"I'll need a name, stranger, if you're to speak with Lord Howland," the sentry replied.

"Just tell him I wish to speak to him about the Tower of Joy. He'll want to see me," Bael responded. The sentry scoffed, but sent the message. Within minutes the sentry allowed him entry, and he was inside the Great Hall.

The first word anyone would use to describe Howland Reed is small. Like most of the crannogmen, Howland couldn't have been taller than five feet. He had brown hair, like his son Jojen, and like both of his children, deep green eyes, the like of which Bael had never seen before. "I knew you would come," Howland said when he laid eyes on Bael. "From the moment I heard Ned was dead, I knew you would come. I didn't know the circumstances or when, only that you would come."

"Then you know why I'm here?"

"You wish to know the identity of your mother."

"More like I want her identity confirmed, Lord Howland." Bael then explained about his visions in the fire, and Howland confirmed that so far as he knew, they were all true. The man then swore allegiance to Balerion, and Bael left, glad to have a second source confirming what he knew in his heart to be true. His next stop would be another test, a test of loyalty given to House Frey, and considering what Aunt Catelyn had told him, he was certain they would not pass.

_The Twins, 298 AL-Balerion_

Upon arriving near the Twins a few days later, Bael tied his two prisoners to a tree shaved bare of it's bark, wearing only their underclothes, and without so much as a rock near them and Ghost watching over them in order to make certain they couldn't escape. After that, he dyed his hair brown, strapped Vindice to his back, put on a cloak, and walked the rest of the way to the Twins. Once again, he was stopped by a sentry who demanded to know why he was there. "A traveler, heading south to find Robb Stark, the King in the North," was his answer. When Walder Frey heard, he was welcomed to a feast with House Frey.

"Why are you traveling alone if you wish to join the King in the North?" Walder Frey asked.

"Robb ordered my release from the Night's Watch after he was crowned, but I was on a ranging and only recently learned of his orders. I've been traveling south by foot ever since," Bael explained. "Now, if I might ask, why is it that so much of your family is here? Last I had heard, you had sworn your allegiance to Robb."

"I said some words, but the _King in the North_ broke his own word to marry one of my daughters!" Frey shouted.

"And why shouldn't he? You _blackmailed_ him into marrying your daughter. He should have only been bartering to cross the Twins, not for your army as well. Your men should have been defending Lord Tully from the Lannisters, not hiding behind your walls."

"Who are you to question my honor?" Frey demanded.

"I'm not questioning your honor, Lord Walder, I'm denying it's existence. As for who I am, I am Jon Snow, Robb's half-brother," Bael stated, claiming that name for the first time since his rebirth.

"You bastard! Kill him!" Walder shouted. Several Freys charged at Bael, but he dispatched the first with the serving knife he had been given and the second with his fork before drawing Vindice and backing up to the nearest wall.

"I'd thought you had turned your cloak, Frey, but I didn't think you'd go as far as breaking guest right to kill anyone," Bael stated.

"I was going to kill your brother and most of his army at a wedding, you're just one extra. Lord Tywin probably won't even give me so much as an extra dragon for you."

Bael raised his eyebrow at that. " _Most_ of his army?" he asked as he killed another Frey. "Who would have survived?"

"Well, seeing as how you're not going to survive the night, why not? Bolton turned his cloak as well, he was going to kill Stark himself," Frey crowed.

Bael nearly froze at that. Bolton and Frey conspired together with the Lannisters? How had Rhaenys known about that? His blood boiled at the thought, and he called out in Valyrian _"Rhaegal, come to me and burn them all!"_

"And what was that nonsense?" Frey demanded, not even worried about the growing number of his dead children at the hand of Balerion.

"You'll see soon enough, Turncloak. Now, are there any of you who _don't_ support the Lannisters?"

"If any of us don't, there all either locked in their rooms or with your bastard brother," one of the Freys claimed.

"Good, then I don't need to feel guilty for killing all of you," Bael said with an evil grin. "Walder Frey, I, Balerion of Houses Targaryen and Stark, first of my name, rightful King of the Andals, Rhoynar and First Men, do denounce and attaint you. I strip you of all rank and titles, of all lands and holdings, and hereby sentence you and all those who participated in your crime to death." Seconds later, Rhaegal cried out, smashing his head into one of the windows and burning everyone in sight. Within minutes, every single Frey in the room was burned to a crisp. Satisfied, at least for now, Balerion now scoured the Twins for any surviving Freys, and for letters proving the Freys and Boltons participation in the conspiracy. The letters were quickly found, surviving Freys was not so easy. Only a handful of Freys were found, most of them women and children. Only one adult male Frey was found in the Twins, a Ser Perwyn Frey. Perwyn admitted that he had known of the plot, but other than arguing against it had done nothing. Balerion decided that instead of him passing judgment, he would let his cousin do it. Gods, but unless there were Freys still with Robb, then the whole House would probably go extinct! That hadn't been done since the Reynes and Tarbecks at the hands of Tywin Lannister! Whatever House Frey's fate, Bael knew it wouldn't be the equal of the fate he had decided for House Greyjoy. And his next stop was the Cape of Eagles, so his two Ironborn captives could watch his judgment. The Frey captives were staying at the Twins, while crannogmen became their guards. Them he knew he could trust.

_Cape of Eagles, 298 AL-Theon_

Theon was shocked at the change that had been wrought in Jon Snow, shocked and confused. He couldn't imagine why the younger man was now calling himself a Targaryen, or why he was being so . . . _vicious_ in his attacks. Oh, he was perfectly nice to him and Asha, but he had _slaughtered_ first Theon's men at Winterfell and now the Freys. Gods, but how would Robb take such a change? And why were they here, at the Cape of Eagles, the best place to view the Iron Islands? Harlaw was clearly in sight, Blacktyde slightly less so, and one could just make out Orkmount rising from the sea. "Why are we here, Snow?" he demanded.

"So you can watch the judgment that the Iron Islands should have received years ago," Snow replied in a voice as cold as his name. That was when Theon spotted the dragon that had attacked his men at Winterfell. It had grown in the month since then . . . but why was it heading out to sea?

"What is it doing?" Asha asked.

"Doing what should have been done years ago, exterminating your race of pirates, rapists, slavers and murderers," Snow calmly stated. He had barely finished speaking when a burst of flame came from the dragon, setting fire to Harlaw! Within hours, it was clear that the dragon was destroying or had destroyed both Harlaw and Blacktyde, and was moving on to the rest of the Iron Islands. By the time it returned the next day, Theon and Asha were nearly comatose in shock. They were now the only survivors of the Iron Islands, except for any currently on the seas. Though they never reacted to it, Snow announced that they were moving south to Harrenhal, the last known location of Robb Stark and the majority of his army.


	7. Reunion

_Harrenhal, 299 AL-Robb_

Robb Stark was worried. After his marriage, he had lost most of the Freys and their loyal houses, which meant he lost a good portion of his army, admittedly for a good reason. Then his own mother released his most valuable prisoner due to the words of the man most responsible for his father’s death, resulting in added strain in his relationship with the Karstarks. Now he had heard that Stannis Baratheon had taken what army he had left and sailed north, probably planning to force the Northern houses to bend the knee or be destroyed. What else could go wrong? he wondered, though he kept his thoughts to himself.  
  
His pondering was brought to an end when his loyal squire, Olyvar Frey came to his current lodgings. “Your Grace, there’s a man here demanding an audience with you. He says-”  
  
“Send him away, please, Olyvar. I have enough headaches to deal with as it is, I do not need to deal with some plaintiff who is upset because of some idiotic mistake. Send him to Greatjon or Bolton.”  
  
“Your Grace, you’re going to want to see him. He says he’s from the North, and he comes with news of Stannis Baratheon and Theon Greyjoy.”  
  
That got Robb’s attention. “He what?! Send him in, and call my council!”  
  
Not five minutes later, the entire council had gathered to meet the strange visitor: his mother Catelyn Stark, Patrek Mallister, Dacey Mormont, Great and Smalljon Umber, Ser Wendel Manderly, Roose Bolton, the unchained Maester Qyburn they had found in Harrenhal, his great-uncle Ser Brynden Tully, Rickard Karstark, and his uncle Sir Edmure Tully. “Welcome to Harrenhal, friend,” Robb stated. “What news do you bear of Stannis Baratheon and Theon Greyjoy? And why do you hide your face?”  
  
The man had covered himself in a black cloak, hiding his features, thus Robb’s question. “I have my reasons for hiding my identity, Robb Stark. And may I congratulate you on your success.”  
  
“Success?” Karstark asked with a scoff. “What success?”

“Why, being the last surviving rebel king in this war, of course. Have you not heard? The Iron Islands are nothing but ash and rock, and I killed Stannis not three months ago. Quite the accomplishment for a boy who, before now had never been further from Winterfell than the Wolfswood for a hunt.”  
  
Robb stared at the man, who had a very familiar voice, though he couldn’t place it. And he certainly seemed to know a lot about him. “Why did you kill him?” he asked, focusing on the important part, rather than the personal mystery.  
  
“He and his fire priestess attempted to burn me so they could ‘wake dragons from stone,’ or so I was told. It didn’t work, obviously. Or rather, it didn’t work the way they expected.”  
  
“Who are you?” Robb asked again, his curiosity clear in his voice.  
  
“Well, you said the next time you saw me, I’d be all in black. You were right,” the stranger said with a smile.  
  
Robb’s eyes widened at that, because now he knew who it was. He leapt up and pulled the stranger into a hug. “Jon! Gods, but it’s good to see you again! Why the cloak?” he finished with a laugh.  
  
Jon shared the laugh before explaining. “Well, I told you that their attempt to sacrifice me didn’t exactly work the way they planned. What I didn’t tell you is why. Turns out Lord Stark did know how to lie, and lie well.”  
  
“What is that supposed to mean, bastard?” Catelyn demanded.  
  
“Mother!” Robb reproached her, sharply.

The still-cloaked Jon calmed him down by saying “It’s alright, Robb. Lady Stark, what it means is that while I am a Stark, I’m not his, nor am I a bastard. Uncle Ned called me his to protect me from those who would want to kill me. If a Baratheon or Lannister had found out about me, I’d be dead or in exile with the rest of my family.”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean, boy?” the Greatjon demanded.  
  
Jon just smiled and walked to the window. Once there, he raised his voice to call out “ _Rhaegal, mazigon_!”  
  
“Rhaegal?” Robb asked.  
  
Jon just smiled. “You’ll see, but don’t panic when you do see him. He’s as much under my control as Ghost is, and for the same reason.”  
  
“Where is Ghost?”  
  
“Guarding a pair of prisoners, one for you, one for Lord Glover. A pair of Ironborn that I knew you’d want to deal with personally.”  
  
Then Roose Bolton spoke up for the first time. “Since when do Starks speak Valyrian?”  
  
“Since I’m not just a Stark, Bolton. And thank you for reminding me,” Jon stated. Then, faster than anyone had thought possible, he pulled out a sword and sliced off his hands. Bolton cried out in pain, and before anyone else could do anything, Jon finished him off by thrusting the sword through his heart. The Blackfish was quick to seize him before asking what Robb wanted done with him.  
  
“Just answer me this: why?” Robb asked, as a strange animal made it’s cry outside.  
  
“Look in the packet and you’ll have your answer, cousin,” Jon answered. “He probably burned his copies, but fortunately his partner wasn’t so bright. The packet holds proof of his treason against you, as well as treason against you and the Tullys by another party. Oh, and I would suggest you let me go, Sir Brynden, or Rhaegal might kill you.”  
  
“And who is that, bastard?” he demanded of the boy he considered a stain on his niece’s honour.  
  
“Look behind you,” Jon said with a feral grin. As one, they turned to the window, and nearly froze in shock. For there behind them was a large, angry green and bronze dragon. Instantly, the Blackfish released Jon in shock and fear, while Jon went straight to the dragon and started rubbing his neck. “ _Nyke daor odrikilza, Rhaegal_ ,” Jon said, calming it down. Finally, he removed his cloak, revealing a man that bore a strong resemblance to Robb’s bastard brother, yet there were some clear differences from the man that went to the Wall to join the Night’s Watch. “When Stannis tried to burn me, it did wake a dragon, the dragon inside me. The secret Lord Stark kept was the truth about my origins: I am the trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.”  
  
Indeed, the changes from the last time Robb saw him were ones that marked him as a Targaryen: the classic silver hair, and the looks that bordered on beauty. And clearly, he could control that dragon of his. But where had it come from? “Where in the Seven Hells did that come from?” the Greatjon demanded, echoing Robb‘s thoughts.  
  
“My aunt Daenerys hatched Rhaegal and his siblings about the same time Uncle Ned died. Somehow, they managed to sense my arrival at Dragonstone, and Rhaegal came to find me. He’s been with me ever since, and he’s as loyal to me as Ghost is,” Jon said. To the shock of all, the dragon proved his point by nuzzling Jon! “Oh, and before I forget, the Watch handed me over to Stannis so he could burn me to death, so no, I did not desert.”  
  
“Good, I wouldn’t want to have that dragon burn me because I was forced to execute you,” Robb said with a grin.  
  
“Balerion,” came a whisper. Everyone turned to see where the voice came from, shocked to hear it from Qyburn. “Balerion Targaryen, that’s what your father would have named you. Had you been a girl, you would have been Visenya, but either way, he hoped you would have your mother’s hair and his eyes.”  
  
Bael looked at the former maester in shock. “You knew my father?”  
  
“Quite well, Your Grace. Rhaegar never trusted Pycelle, said he was too much of a Lannister man to be trusted. He also supported some of my more … radical experiments that the Citadel never liked. Of course, he placed restrictions as well, but his were far more lenient than those of the Citadel. You have my loyalty, Your Grace.”  
  
With those words, Robb realized why his brother … no, cousin, was there for. “You’re here to reclaim your family’s throne, aren’t you? And you want me to bend the knee.”  
  
Bael just smiled at his cousin. “While I would like it if you did, I’m going to do one more thing for you first. I’m going to find Arya and return her to you.”  
  
“Petyr promised that he would send both the girls back once we returned Jaime Lannister,” Robb’s mother stated.  
  
“And you believed him? Trust me, Arya wouldn’t let herself get captured so easily. She’s smart, and too wild for the Lannisters to predict. She’s somewhere between Riverrun and King’s Landing, probably close by. Besides, I need to bring down the Lannisters before I even think of claiming the Iron Throne. Then there’s the other side of my family to-”  
  
“Your Grace! Some of the Umber men captured a spy. They want to know what to do with him,” Olyvar stated.  
  
“Bring him here,” Robb ordered.  
  
As soon as they did, Dacey charged at the man before punching him. “You bastard! What are you doing here?”  
  
“Hello Dacey, good to see you too,” Ser Jorah Mormont stated. “I am no spy, I came here on the order of Daenerys Targaryen in order to track Rhaegal.”  
  
“If we let you go, would you pass on a message for me?” Bael asked. Robb raised an eyebrow at his cousin, wondering where he was going with this. Bael just gave him a smirk, telling Robb that he knew what he was doing. When Mormont agreed, Bael stated “Tell her that her nephew is waiting for her in Westeros, and if she starts in the Vale, then she can conquer it as easily as Visenya did. Oh, and if you see him, ask my brother to join with her if you can.” Mormont, and all of Robb’s council were shocked at that, but Mormont agreed.  
  
“Your brother is alive? But I thought the Mountain killed him!” Catelyn said.  
  
“I don’t know the specifics, but that’s what I’ve learned. Now, I shall be back within a month, and Arya will be with me, I promise.” He was about to leave when he snapped his fingers. “I nearly forgot! I need to turn my prisoners over to you! Robb, Lord Glover, follow me.” Curious, they did so, as did several of Robb’s guards and Olyvar. Bael led them to a clearing which held “Robb, your prisoner, the turncoat Theon Greyjoy. Lord Glover, yours is Asha Greyjoy, the woman who took your home. I leave them to your able hands. Ghost, let’s go.”

Once his cousin was gone, Catelyn turned to Robb.  "What was in the packet he gave you?  With all these revelations, you never said."

"That's because I haven't had a chance to read them yet, Mother," Robb explained.  Taking the packets, he read the messages, only to pale in shock.  "The Freys were plotting with the Lannisters to ... annihilate us," he explained once he had recovered from the shock.

Olyvar was the first to recover from his shock, and he rushed to bend the knee to Robb.  "Your Grace, you know that I am loyal to you alone!  I knew nothing of this, and had I learned, I would not have rested before warning you of my family's treachery.  But because of my loyalty, if you wish to punish me for what they planned, my life is yours."

Robb blinked in shock, wondering just what Olyvar was thinking.  Fortunately he was always quick on his feet.  "Rise, Olyvar.  I have no reason to mistrust you, and my cousin has already punished the traitors in your family.  As such, the devastation in your family is so great that you are the new Lord of the Crossing."

"Are there none in my family alive?!" Olyvar cried out in shock.

"My cousin provided a list of the survivors, all of whom were safe in their rooms when he burned the conspirators," Robb explained, handing the list over.  Olyvar breathed a sigh of relief when he realized how many despised what his late father had planned, but disappointed at how few of his brothers and their sons had.  Of the male Freys, only his older brother Perwyn and his nephew Alesander were left alive of those who were old enough to challenge his lordship, and Perwyn had known but done nothing.  "Perwyn's going to the Wall, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is."

_Riverlands, 299 AL-Balerion_

Four days later, and Bael was visiting a tavern. “Have you seen a girl with short, brown hair, about a head shorter than me, probably with a couple friends and a Braavosi style sword?”  
  
“Sorry friend, but I haven’t,” the tavern keeper stated.  
  
“Thanks for your help,” Bael said before tossing two coins on the counter.  
  
The other man picked them up, and looked up in shock. “Two gold dragons? What for?”  
  
“One is for the food and information, the other is for you to send a message to Harrenhal and Riverrun if you do see the girl.”  
  
“I promise, I will!” the man agreed enthusiastically.  
  
Bael smiled at the man, but when he turned around, he found his way blocked by a handful of men, including a blond with wild hair and beard wearing a red cloak. “Can I help you?”  
  
“Yeah, you’re coming with us, milord,” a brunet with a bow stated.  
  
“And if I refuse?”  
  
“Well then, we kill you here,” the blond said with a smug tone.  
  
“Me against … what, seven of you? I think you will lose this one,” Bael stated with a smirk.  
  
“Milord? These men are the Brotherhood Without Banners,” the innkeeper stated before pointing out the others rising up with the outlaws. “If you fight them, many here will fight you too.”  
  
“Well then, I find that I am most agreeable to joining you, on the condition that I keep my sword. It is very valuable to my family, and I do not wish to lose it.” The blond, who also seemed to be the leader, thought for a moment before agreeing. But he also put a bag over Bael’s head and bound his hands. He was taking no chances with Bael getting loose and fighting them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: Rhaegal, mazigon - Rhaegal, come.  
> Nyke daor odrikilza, Rhaegal - I am not harmed, Rhaegal


End file.
